


Stream of Consciousness

by kashmir



Category: The OC
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-17
Updated: 2004-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:59:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth thinks about Summer. Pre-Ryan and all that jazz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stream of Consciousness

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://jacquijack.livejournal.com/profile)[**jacquijack**](http://jacquijack.livejournal.com/) in repsonse to [this post](http://www.livejournal.com/users/kashmir1/122643.html), where I begged people to leave me requirements for drabbles to write. This is about 230 words, give or take. So lil more than a drabble, I suppose.

I don't think she even knows I exist. Well, maybe that I exist. But I doubt she knows my name.

She is one of the chosen few, one of the popular kids, the cool set.

I'm not. I'm pretty much her opposite in every way. The unpopular geek. That emo kid.

We have different taste in music, clothes; different hobbies and interests. Well, not that she knows or cares about what I like or don't like. I on the other hand spend entirely too much time worrying about what she likes or doesn't like or what she'd think of this or that.

Not that I don't have the time to waste on pointless shit like that. Not like I have a social life or anything.

Chalk that up to another difference. Her busy social calendar and my lack of one.

What is that bullshit about opposites attracting? Besides being just that; bullshit?

She doesn't know even my name or my hobbies or about my love for Death Cab.

Or about Captain Oats.

Nothing, nada, zilch.

But I know her. Inside and out. Everything. Her likes and dislikes.

Her favorite color. Her smile. Her laugh. Her rage black outs.

So I do what I have to. Watch from afar. Pine. All that pansy-ass stuff.

Name my boat after her.

Maybe one of these days she'll know me like I know her.

Completely.


End file.
